


The First Hunt

by fallintosanity (yopumpkinhead)



Series: Once We Were Young [8]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brotherhood, Brothers, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Loki, Kid Thor, warning: blood, warning: broken bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yopumpkinhead/pseuds/fallintosanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is a great warrior, even if he's only just starting to lose his baby teeth, and he needs a good battle to prove it. Slaying the famed dire bear Iofur sounds like just the right challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Hunt

“You’re going to get in trou-ble, you’re going to get in trou-ble,” Loki sang gleefully. He skipped in a circle around Thor, green eyes bright and mischievous.

Thor glared at him. “If I get in trouble, so will you,” he said. “You came with me.”

“But it was your idea,” Loki retorted. “You’re the big brother.” He was skipping backwards now, feet light on the uneven dirt path, grinning widely. Adding insult to injury, he was deliberately slurring his words, mocking Thor’s inability to say s’s and th’s properly since he’d lost his first baby teeth two weeks ago.

They had snuck out of the nursery that morning, ducking their nurse’s watchful eye with the help of Loki’s magic. It was the only reason Thor had even told Loki he was going – he knew he couldn’t escape alone, but Loki was always hiding from Nurse and making her pull her hair in frustration. Thor hadn’t expected – or wanted – Loki to come along for the rest of it, but Loki had tagged along anyway.

“I think Father will be proud,” Thor huffed. “He told Master Gunter I need more experience.”

“He meant against an Einherjar in the sparring ring,” Loki said. “Not Iofur in his lair.”

“Is that fear in your voice, little brother?” Thor teased. “You’re a baby still, a scaredy-baby—”

“I am _not_ a baby!” Loki protested. “I’m almost as big as you.” He puffed out his thin chest, and Thor laughed. Loki thumped him on the arm. “And I’m _not_ scared.” He tilted his head, smiling mischievously, his voice going sing-song. “But I think _you_ are.”

“What?” Thor yelped. “No I’m not!”

“Then why are you slowing down?” Loki asked. “We’re almost there.”

“I’m not slowing down,” Thor said. “I’m stalking him.”

“‘I’m stalking him’,” Loki repeated, and dissolved into giggles. “You walk like a bilgesnipe, how can you stalk anything?”

“Be quiet, I’m a great hunter.”

“A great hunter,” Loki repeated again, still laughing.

“Stop that!”

“Stop that!”

Thor shoved him. “Stop copying me!”

“Stop copying me!”

“I mean it, Loki!”

“I mean it, Loki!”

“Stop or I’ll box your ears!”

“Stop or I’ll—mmph!” Loki’s words ended in a squeak as Thor lunged forward and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Loki swatted at Thor but Thor put a finger to his lips. “Shh! I heard something.”

They both fell silent, and for a moment the only sounds were those of the forest: birds chirping, trees rustling, small animals chittering. Then they heard it: a low snoring rumble. They traded an excited look, and Thor let go of Loki to reach for the sword at his hip. They’d snuck into the armory before they’d left the palace, and if Thor had had to settle for a short sword rather than the greatsword he wanted, due to it being the only one that didn’t drag on the ground when he walked, well, it would be all the more heroic for him to slay Iofur with a smaller weapon.

Loki, too, had drawn his weapons: a pair of slender throwing daggers that would be tiny in a grown-up’s hands, but which Loki wielded like hunting knives. He grinned at Thor, excited, and fell into step beside him as Thor crouched low and crept through the trees toward the sound. Not far ahead, the forest dropped away into a broad gully, lined with broken stone and boulders and only just too shallow to be called a canyon. Side by side, Thor and Loki crawled up to the edge of the tree line, where the ground slanted sharply down.

“Whoa,” Thor breathed. Loki didn’t say anything, but his green eyes widened.

The great bear Iofur sprawled in the shade of a shallow cave on the opposite wall of the gully. He was a massive beast, with thick brown fur, claws like broadswords, and jaws that could swallow a grown-up whole. His eyes were closed and his snores blasted clouds of dust and sand from the gully floor.

Thor elbowed Loki excitedly. “Perfect!” he whispered. “He’ll be groggy when we wake him up. We’ll have time to do it right!”

Loki frowned at him. “Why wake him?” he asked. “We can just sneak down there and slay him while he sleeps!”

“There’s no honor in slaying a sleeping enemy,” Thor retorted. It came out _thlaying a thleeping enemy_ , and Loki giggled. Thor punched him on the arm. “We’re doing this to prove to Father that we’re great warriors! Trust me, this is going to be excellent!”

“I trust _you_ ,” Loki said. “Not Iofur.”

Thor grinned again and tugged on Loki’s hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go down there and wake him up!”

“No, wait,” Loki said. “Remember what Master Gunter said about tactics? We should do a pincer, and come at him from both sides.”

“Good idea,” Thor said. “You wait here, I’ll circle around behind him—”

Loki snorted. “I told you, you walk like a bilgesnipe. You stay, I’ll go sneak up on him.”

“Fine,” Thor said, rolling his eyes. “But hurry, we don’t want him to wake up before you’re in position.”

“I know, I know,” Loki muttered. He got to his feet, moving with exaggerated care to stay quiet. Thor shooed him, and he stuck out his tongue before disappearing into the trees.

Thor turned back to the gully and Iofur. The great bear snorted, one huge paw flexing where it lay by his head. Thor tensed, his grip tightening on his sword, but the bear settled into stillness once more. Thor tapped his fingers, impatient. He could hear birds chirping somewhere overhead, could see the wind kicking up little dust devils on the gully floor. He didn’t know how long it would take Loki to get in position, and it occurred to him belatedly that they should have arranged a signal.

Thor sighed and shifted, restless, eager to start the fight. His movement knocked loose a few pebbles from the edge of the gully, sending them tumbling across the gully floor. Thor held his breath, but Iofur didn’t stir – apparently the soft clatter was not enough to wake him. That was something, at least, and Thor picked out another pebble from the dirt and flicked it down into the gully, aiming for a largish stone a few paces in front of Iofur’s nose. It hit neatly and bounced off to the side, and Thor flicked another pebble to ricochet off the big stone and hit his first stone. He hadn’t played marbles in months – it was a children’s game and Thor had decided he was too old for children’s games, much to Loki’s disappointment – but he hadn’t lost his skill. It was harder with the distance and the uneven pebbles, but he still got three more good hits.

The fourth went wild.

It skittered across the sand of the gully straight toward Iofur, and Thor had only a moment for his stomach to sink before the pebble bounced off the great bear’s nose. Black eyes snapped open and the massive head lifted sharply. Thor froze, holding his breath. If Loki was in place then it would be all right; Thor would charge and Loki would charge and they’d trap the bear between them, only he didn’t know if Loki was ready, didn’t want to attack if he wasn’t—

Iofur huffed in a deep breath and his head turned, narrowed eyes fixed directly on Thor’s hiding spot.

Thor didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe.

Then Iofur heaved to his feet and lunged for the cliff.

Thor flung himself to the side, narrowly missing being crushed beneath an enormous paw. He almost dropped his sword, barely managed to hang on as he landed in an awkward sprawl. Iofur bellowed, the stench of blood and raw meat on his breath, washing over Thor and making him gag. He rolled to his feet, dodged another swipe from claws longer than he was – where was Loki? – planted his feet and raised his sword in both hands.

Iofur reared up on his back legs, towering over Thor, and roared.

Fear caught in Thor’s throat, turned his legs to jelly. He wobbled, took a step back to catch his balance, but his ankle turned on a loose stone and he fell, pitching sideways over the cliff and rolling down into the gully. The fall knocked the wind out of him and for a bad moment he couldn’t move. Iofur’s great head looked down at him, jaws open and hungry and dripping saliva—

—a rock bounced off his snout and Loki’s voice shouted, “Thor, run!”

Thor scrabbled into a shaky run as Iofur twisted to snarl at Loki where he stood near the mouth of the bear’s cave, a knife in one hand and another rock in the other. He flung the rock, and this time hit Iofur in the eye.

The great beat howled in pain, rearing up to his back legs and pawing at his eye. Loki darted past him and ran after Thor, and Thor turned his eyes forward to the gully. He was looking for a way out, but the walls rose sharply here, so that the gully became a proper canyon and the only way to go was forward.

Iofur roared again and the ground shook as he dropped back to all fours. Thor dared a glance over his shoulder, and the sight turned his blood to ice: the bear was beginning to run, and every one of his strides was twenty of theirs. He caught up to them in only a few bounds, rearing up to swipe at them with a massive paw.

“Look out!” Thor screamed, and dove sideways, slamming into Loki and knocking them both to the ground. He heard an ugly _crunch_ and his brother cried out in pain, but he didn’t have time to think about it as razor-sharp claws sliced past barely a handspan above them. Loki shoved Thor off him and rolled to his feet, holding one arm close to his chest. His forearm was bent all wrong and there was blood on his sleeve, and a wave of nausea swept over Thor at the sight. But Loki planted his feet and lifted his good arm, still holding his throwing dagger. Thor scooped up his sword where he’d dropped it when he’d dived to the ground, then had to fall flat once more as Iofur swung at them again.

But the bear had anticipated that, his paw spreading to slam into Thor’s shoulder, the force of the blow sending him flying. The ground rushed past below in a terrifying jumble, then rose to meet him with a horrible crack. Thor hurt everywhere but especially his chest, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t make his arms move, and why had he thought they could take on Iofur, he and Loki were going to _die_ and even if it meant going to Valhalla, Thor didn’t want to die, not yet, not when he’d only just made friends with the dark-haired girl who sometimes joined their sparring lessons, not when it meant leaving the palace and Asgard and—

A high-pitched shriek cut through the rush of his thoughts and Thor turned his head in time to see Loki dash under Iofur’s upraised paw, knife held out and slicing deep into the bear’s flesh. Loki shrieked again, somewhere between a warrior’s battle cry and a scream of terror, as Iofur reared up and back, the knife still embedded in his paw. Loki darted under the bear’s torso, trying to roll out between his hind legs, but Iofur was already reaching for him and Thor’s breath stopped – Iofur was going to crush him, was going to tear him to pieces with those huge claws, and Thor couldn’t let that happen to his baby brother. He forced himself up to his hands and knees, his chest on fire, every breath stabbing into him, but his reaching hand found a rock and even as Iofur bent down to grab at Loki, Thor flung the rock.

He didn’t have Loki’s aim, but the rock still bounced off the side of Iofur’s snout and the bear paused just long enough for Loki to dart away between his hind legs. Thor staggered to his feet. He didn’t know where his sword was, didn’t have another weapon, didn’t know what to do — and then he spotted the crack in the canyon wall.

“Loki!” he shouted. “Over here!”

He ran forward, zigzagging desperately, hearing the whistle of Iofur’s claws passing too close to his head. From the corner of his eye he saw movement and when he turned to look Iofur was reaching for Loki and Thor tried to shout a warning, but Loki was already moving, flinging one hand up and calling the bright golden witchlight he made when the dark of the nursery scared him – only it was much brighter than he’d ever made it, blindingly bright, flaring in front of Iofur’s eyes and making the bear snarl and toss his head, his claws going wild. Thor smacked into the rock wall beside the crack, then Loki was in front of him and diving into the crevasse, and Thor flung himself in after him. For a second the whole world was a jumble of sharp rock and pain and Iofur’s bellowing, then Thor crashed into Loki and they both tumbled to the ground deep inside the crack. The walls shook and pebbles clattered around them as Iofur beat and clawed at the rock wall, and Thor pushed Loki flat against the ground, trying to shield him with his own body. He could feel Loki shaking, could hear him gasping desperately – or maybe that was Thor himself; Loki always got quiet when he got scared. He bit down hard on his lip and the gasping stopped, and he felt Loki’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

After an eternity, the roaring and the shaking and the deluge of pebbles stopped. Thor could still feel the faint vibrations in the ground as Iofur paced back and forth just outside, but the great bear seemed to have realized he couldn’t get to them. Still, it was several more minutes before Thor could make himself move, and then only because Loki jabbed an elbow into his stomach and hissed, “You’re squishing me, Thor, move!”

Disentangling themselves was difficult. Thor’s chest hurt sharply with every movement and indrawn breath, Loki was curled around his left arm, and the crevasse was narrow and uneven; but eventually they managed to get seated side by side, wedged as far back as they could go into the rock. Fresh furrows at the mouth of the crack showed where Iofur’s claws had grasped for them, and Thor tried not to think about how close the marks were to his feet. He could see shadows, and occasionally a glimpse of matted brown fur, outside the crack where Iofur paced, and he gulped. He wanted to be back home, safe in the nursery. He wanted Nurse, his mother, Father. He wanted to cry.

Pressed against his side, Loki was shaking still, green eyes huge and fixed on the opening of the crevasse. Thor felt guilty, suddenly: Loki was his little brother, Thor was supposed to mind him and keep him out of trouble. He never should have let him come along. Loki was still a baby, not a warrior. But now they were stuck here, and worse, Loki was hurt. In his mind’s eye, Thor kept seeing the way Loki’s forearm had been bent all wrong, the blood soaking his sleeve. Even now, Loki was curled around his arm, knees drawn up to his chest and his arm cradled against his stomach. That was bad, it had to be bad, so Thor should do something about it.

“Loki,” he said quietly. “Let me see your arm.”

Loki twitched sharply and looked up at him. “It hurts,” he whispered.

“I know,” Thor said. He tried to pretend he was their nurse, tried to invoke her calm demeanor whenever one of them got hurt. “Let me see it.”

Loki licked his lips, but then shifted, uncurling a little. He kept his eyes on Thor’s face as he held out his arm, and Thor tried to smile reassuringly before bending his head to see the damage.

In the shadows of the crevasse, the blood staining Loki’s sleeve looked almost black. His arm was broken, badly; Thor could see bone poking out through the fabric of his sleeve, and had to swallow back another wave of nausea at the wrongness of it. He didn’t think Loki had actually looked at it yet – Loki had thrown up when Tyr had let them watch him gut a deer in the slaughterhouse – so he tried to hide Loki’s arm with his own as he examined it. Blood still oozed out around the bone, and if Thor had no idea what to do about a broken bone, he at least knew that you were supposed to stop bleeding. Nurse usually did it with her skirt, but Thor was a boy and didn’t wear skirts. He did have his tunic, but it wasn’t long enough to wrap around Loki’s arm, not unless Thor took it off.

He looked up at Loki. He wanted to take his brother’s hand, but Loki’s good arm was wedged between them and Thor didn’t dare jostle his bad one, so he reached out and clasped Loki’s neck the way he’d seen Father and Tyr sometimes do. “Loki,” he said, “You’re bleeding a little. I have to wrap it up, all right?” Loki nodded, a little too fast. Thor squeezed his neck gently. “I have to get my tunic off, though,” he added.

“I can help,” Loki whispered.

“All right,” Thor said. With one hand, he kept Loki’s bad arm held still; with the other he pulled his tunic free from his belt. He could feel Loki tugging at the back of the tunic, and even though his chest hurt like fire when Loki pulled the fabric up and over his head, Thor bit his lip and didn’t cry. They didn’t bother trying to disentangle the sleeves; Thor got one arm loose and then just pulled the tunic down over the hand supporting Loki’s arm and wound it tight. Loki did cry, burying his face against Thor’s shoulder to muffle the sounds, but even so Iofur paused in his pacing and lowered his head to peer at them through the crack. Thor wrapped his free arm around Loki and glared at the bear, and finally Iofur huffed and went back to pacing.

And suddenly it was too much for Thor, too much to be brave and strong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Thor was supposed to be a brave warrior, able to slay dire bears without flinching even though he didn’t have any grown-up teeth yet and still needed an extra cushion to see over the feast table. He’d faced down the bear, yes, but now he and Loki were stuck here in the crack and Loki’s arm was broken, and Thor’s chest hurt badly, and no one knew where they were and even if Heimdall found them eventually it would be too late, Iofur would find a way to get into the crack and he’d eat both of them, eat them all up the way Nurse had warned them, and Thor hiccuped and then started to cry. Loki went still and quiet against him, his good arm tightening around Thor’s shoulders, and Thor immediately felt worse, because he was the big brother and he was supposed to take care of Loki, not the other way around. He swallowed hard against the tears and mostly managed to fight them back, letting go of Loki long enough to drag an arm across his eyes.

Then a hunting horn sounded in the distance.

Thor jerked upright, feeling Loki go still again. That was Father’s horn, that he blew when a hunt had found its prey. Outside the rock he could see Iofur turn, ears pricked forward, teeth bared in a snarl. Hoofbeats pounded on the ground, voices shouting, and then a great blast of light exploded between Iofur’s front paws. The bear reared up, bellowing, but another blast sang past his head, and he pivoted, dropping to all fours hard enough to rattle more pebbles loose from the rock, and finally – finally, thank the Norns! – loped away along the canyon.

Loki made a tiny noise of relief, his face still buried against Thor’s shoulder. Thor wanted to sigh out his own relief, but his chest hurt too badly and he settled for squeezing Loki’s neck again. The hoofbeats grew louder until they could see horses outside, then there was a clatter of armor and Father was at the opening of the rock and reaching for them. “Thor—Loki!” he called.

“Papa!” Loki wailed, and wriggled free to fling himself into Father’s arms. Thor stood up more slowly, trying not to cry, but when Mother appeared behind Father and Father handed Loki to her and reached out for Thor, he couldn’t stop the tears any more. He clung to his father, shaking, only dimly aware of Father saying, “It’s all right, my son, you’re safe now. It’s all right.”

Eventually the tears stopped, and Thor managed to lift his head from his father’s chest enough to see the rest of the hunting party. Some of the warriors were just returning from having chased Iofur deeper into the canyon; the rest were arranged in a protective formation around the royal family. Thor’s cheeks burned at the thought that they were all there to see him rescued, to see him crying like a child. But at the same time he was painfully aware that if Father and Mother and the warriors hadn’t come when they did, Thor and Loki both would have been Iofur’s dinner.

One of the warriors gave Father the all-clear; he nodded and waved them away. When the warriors had backed off a little, horses stamping and snorting, Father drew back from Thor enough to look him in the eye. Thor had a moment to be terrified – Father’s expression was utterly blank, in the cold way that meant he was furious – then Father said, quiet but sharp, “What were you _thinking_ , Thor? You could have been— And your brother, too! I should have you flogged—” He stopped abruptly, fixing Thor with an awful one-eyed stare. “Explain yourself.”

Thor swallowed hard. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t expected when he set out that morning to return to Father anything but victorious. He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say—

“It was my fault, Papa,” Loki said suddenly from behind Thor.

He spun around to see Loki squirm down from Mother’s grip, and cross to stand a little unsteadily beside Thor. Before Thor could think of anything to say, Loki repeated, “It was my idea. I wanted to defeat Iofur, I wanted to show you how great a warrior I am.”

Thor finally managed to find his voice. “Loki—”

Loki glared at him, then turned back to Father. “I asked Thor to come with me. So he could see too.” He lifted his chin, green eyes bright and fierce.

“Thor?” Father asked. “Is that true?”

“No!” Thor yelped. Father had said he was going to flog Thor for this; Thor couldn’t allow Loki to take that punishment instead, Loki was too little for flogging yet and anyway it was all Thor’s fault—

“He’s lying,” Loki said calmly. “It was my idea and it was a good one except for I tripped—” He started to wave his broken arm and winced, tears coming to his eyes before he swallowed them back. “He just wants you to think _he’s_ the brave one.”

“Loki!” Thor snapped, and grabbed Loki by the shoulders. “Stop _lying_ , it’s not—”

Loki knocked Thor’s arm away. “I’m not lying, Thor!” he shouted. “You always say I’m lying, it’s not _fair_ , I’m not—”

“Enough!” Father broke in, his voice sharp. They both fell silent, and Thor bowed his head under the weight of his father’s glare. “That’s enough from both of you,” Father continued. “Loki, since this was your idea, you shall spend the next month in a room by yourself. Perhaps some time to focus on your lessons will remind you why we have rules about running off alone.” Loki’s chin wobbled, but he nodded.

Father turned to Thor next. “You should have had the sense to stop him,” he said. “Your punishment will be extra time in the practice yard running drills.”

Thor swallowed, trying not to look too relieved. Not a flogging; drills in the yard he could handle. But a whole month without Loki—!

“Well then,” Mother said, and came forward to scoop up Loki again, brushing at the tear-marks on his face. “I think that’s enough for now. Let’s get you two to the healers, yes?”

Thor risked a glance up at his father; he was still glaring down at Thor with anger in his single eye, but after a moment he nodded. “Come with me, boy,” he said gruffly. Thor followed him to his horse and Father lifted him into the saddle, then swung up behind him. It wasn’t very grown-up, but Thor was grateful for his father’s arms around him as he spun the horse around and led the hunting party back to the castle.

*             *             *

That night, Thor lay in his bed in the nursery and stared up at the moonlit ceiling. The healers had fussed over them for hours; aside from Loki’s broken arm, it turned out that Thor had broken two ribs as well, and they were both covered with bruises and scrapes. When they were healed, servants had carted Loki off to one of the guest rooms in a different wing of the palace, where he was to spend his month of punishment. Nurse had come to bring Thor back to the nursery, and chivvied him through dinner and a bath and into bed, even though it wasn’t bedtime yet. Thor had protested, but he really was tired, and Nurse was having none of his complaints. _You ran away from under my nose and nearly got yourself eaten by a dire bear!_ she’d snapped. _I was_ worried _about you!_

Now Nurse had gone, and the nursery was empty except for Thor. But it was too quiet without Loki there. Instead of his brother’s breathing, Thor could hear every little creak of the walls or whisper of the curtains in the wind, and each sound startled him badly. He kept remembering the way Iofur had loomed over him, the pain of hitting the ground, the sick terror as he’d dived into the crack in the canyon wall. Shadows on the wall looked too much like Iofur’s head, like his great paws reaching out for Thor, and the rustle of trees outside the window sounded too much like Iofur’s growls, low and rumbling. Thor curled up tight under the covers, pulling his pillow over his head and wishing Loki was there.

Suddenly something moved on the bed and Thor cried out in surprise, scrambling backward and flailing blindly with the pillow. Iofur couldn’t be there, the bear couldn’t have found him, this was the palace and he was supposed to be safe here, but what if Iofur had followed them home—

“Ow!” a familiar voice yelped.

Thor lowered the pillow to see Loki kneeling on the bed and rubbing the side of his head where the pillow had connected. “Loki?” he whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“It was boring in the other room,” Loki said. “And the bed was all wrong.”

But Thor could see how wide his eyes were, the way he kept darting glances at the shadows on the wall. “Oh,” Thor said. He settled back under the covers and held out an arm; Loki burrowed against his side without hesitation. Thor pulled him close, telling himself that it was just because Loki was obviously scared, and not because Thor was glad to have him there. “Father’s going to be mad.”

“I’ll wake up early,” Loki murmured, already half-asleep. “He won’t know.”

“All right,” Thor agreed. His own eyelids felt suddenly heavy, the adrenaline rush of surprise fading and leaving him even more tired than before. With Loki next to him the shadows didn’t seem nearly as frightening; he knew that all he had to do was ask and Loki would call a witchlight. Would probably laugh at him for being scared of shadows, too, so Thor didn’t ask, but he _could_ ask, and that’s what was important.

Loki’s breathing had already evened out into the slow rhythm of sleep, one hand knotted in the front of Thor’s nightshirt. Thor shifted a little to wrap his arm more firmly around his brother, then closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

*             *             *

Odin followed Frigga across the nursery to Thor’s bed, their footsteps muffled by her magic. Odin’s heart had stopped the moment Heimdall’s messenger had told him where his sons were, and he felt like it hadn’t started beating again until he’d seen them safe. Even now, hours later, the thought that he had almost lost them was a terrible weight in his chest. He’d seen the fear in Frigga’s eyes, too, and when he’d paused on the way to bed and looked toward the nursery wing, she’d taken his arm and walked with him.

Now, looking down at the bed, Odin was hardly surprised to see Loki tucked against Thor’s side, both boys clinging to each other like kittens. He well knew the truth of the matter, that it had been Thor who’d instigated today’s misadventure, but little Loki had been determined to protect his brother, and that was an instinct Odin wanted to encourage. He still worried, sometimes, about raising a Jotun shapeshifter as an Aesir prince, but more and more lately he found himself forgetting that Loki had ever been anything other than the pale-skinned, dark-haired wisp of a boy he was now. And times like this, when the boys demonstrated just how close was the bond between them, reassured Odin that he’d made the right decision.

Frigga caught his eye and smiled. She knew what he was thinking; they had been married too long for aught else. She tilted her head toward the boys and raised an eyebrow: _should we leave them?_

Odin smiled back, but shook his head. The boys _were_ supposed to be being punished, after all. And Loki needed to know that his sneaking around the palace didn’t always go unnoticed. Frigga bent down and began untangling the blankets from around them, smoothing Thor’s hair back from his forehead when he stirred. When she’d got them free, Odin gently pried Loki away from Thor and settled the boy against his own shoulder.

Loki murmured something, wrapping his arms around Odin’s neck without quite waking. Odin rubbed his back until he settled again, while Frigga tucked the blankets back around Thor. She bent to kiss his forehead, then turned to Odin and slipped an arm around his waist. Odin couldn’t return the gesture – Loki was big enough now that Odin needed both hands to carry him – but he leaned against her a little as they walked out of the nursery. Once they’d returned Loki to his own bed, they could go to sleep themselves, reassured that both their sons were safe.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been well over a year in the making - I've just been far too busy to finish writing it down. That said, the "Once We Were Young" series may be drawing to an end. It's based on the idea that Odin really does love both his sons and is just terrible at showing it, but _Thor: The Dark World_ blasted that headcanon to smithereens. I'm finding it difficult to come up with stories for this series now that canon Odin is both demonstrably an asshole, and shown to consider Loki nothing more than a worthless monster. 
> 
> I could keep writing pre- _Thor_ stories using the cruel-Odin headcanon and simply let the timestamps on the stories explain the difference, but I feel it would be really jarring for this series. I suppose for now I'll wait and see what the muse comes up with...


End file.
